


Flash

by rynsngyl



Category: X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, LOLLL, M/M, best friend yohan, celebrity seungyoun, fanboy hangyul, hangyul with the bad fashion, i busted this out in like 2 hours lol, just some fluff, seungyoun panicked gay, seungyul clowns, seungyul gay, seungyul stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23150668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rynsngyl/pseuds/rynsngyl
Summary: Hangyul goes to see his number one celebrity crush, Woodz at a concert
Relationships: Cho Seungyeon | Seungyoun/Lee Hangyul
Comments: 62
Kudos: 152





	1. Flash

**Author's Note:**

> hi someone needed to feed the seungyul stans so here i am (this is no beta just word vomit)
> 
> please hit me up @hangyuwu or my fic acc @rynsngyl on twt please !! i need friends like JUST DM ME I DONT BITE

Hangyul won’t admit to any of his friends that he almost cries his eyes out when Yohan hands him VIP Hi-Touch tickets to the next Woodz concert. 

Of course, at the young age of nineteen, he’s hell bent on securing his well established image as the popular, charming athlete. Hangyul’s the comedic and flirtatious half to Yohan’s polite and compassionate self. 

There is no room for him to be an absolute, die hard fan of Woodz, who is dubbed one of Korea’s next big superstars. It’s even more embarrassing, knowing that a majority, scratch that, almost  _ all _ Woodz fans are screaming teenage girls that are only in it for the man’s downright stunning visuals.

He has his excuses, claiming that he ‘ _ just vibed _ ’ with the man’s music: loving each and every lyric, that he enjoys the artistry in Woodz’s songs, always claiming each and every track was perfect to dance to. But there’s a little guilty part of his conscience that just knows that he too, like all the other enamoured fans, fell in love with Woodz’s handsome face and model-like proportions. 

And perhaps he’s irrevocably in love (or obsessed, according to Yohan) with this man that doesn’t even know he exists. Woodz is a star, a revered celebrity who has the looks, the riches, and the talent to make it big. Hangyul is just a broke ass college student who has a plethora of Woodz related items hung up all over the walls of his small dorm room. 

The concert’s in two days, and Hangyul knows he needs to finish all his damn homework and assignments in advance so that he can clear his entire Friday night to get ready and prepare his poor soul to high five his idol. 

Papers are scattered across his desk, and Hangyul thinks that he’s never been as studious as this.  _ Fuck Yohan for saying his obsession with Woodz is too much _ , he thinks. In a matter of three hours, he’s been able to finish a paper, review for one of his classes, and is well on his way for finishing his math assignments for the rest of the week. 

He feels like an honest to god  _ beast _ , not even a good hour at the gym can get his mind as focused and sharp as this. With the rate he’s working at, it seems like he’ll be done with everything by the time it’s dinner, so he retrieves his phone from where it lays ignored at the corner of his desk to call Yohan. 

The phone only rings twice before his best friend’s tired voice fills the room. 

“Hangyul? I thought you were working?” Pen runs along paper with a trained ease, numbers being calculated with an accuracy and speed Hangyul’s sure he’s never worked at before.

He circles the final problem for the assignment with a triumphant scratch of his pen, answering, “Yeah, but I’ll be done with everything in like, thirty minutes? So I wanted to ask if you were down to go out tonight.” 

“ _ Holy shit,”  _ Yohan swears, obviously shocked at the sudden productivity, “like  _ everything _ everything?”

“Yep.” 

“Even the weekend math assignment?” 

Hangyul smirks at the pile of papers beside him, “Finished it right as I called you.”

He can almost imagine the shocked look that’s probably gracing Yohan’s handsome features as they speak, chuckling at the idea of a shell-shocked Yohan gaping at him in surprise.

“You know, I still have homework to finish too…” 

“I’ll send it all to you right now, bro.”

“Gyul. I fucking  _ love _ you.”

.

.

.

It turns out that getting free homework from Hangyul comes at a price, because the price that Yohan pays is not only paying for their dinner, but also becoming Hangyul’s fashion consultant as they browse through the mall, looking for a good concert outfit that’s guaranteed to make Woodz swoon during Hi touch.

“You know, I’m pretty sure you look fine in anything, Gyul.” 

“Yeah?” Hangyul replies, showing off his newest outfit combination to his friend.

Yohan can only look at Hangyul in horror as he instantly regrets his statement, trying not to groan at the sight of Hangyul exiting the fitting room in an all neon outfit. 

“Okay forget everything I said. You look like a walking traffic cone. Absolutely tasteless.” He grabs a pair of black ripped jeans, along with a designer white shirt, throwing it at his hopelessly unfashionable best friend.

“But I like neons,” Hangyul whines, dejectedly but obediently holding onto the clothes he was given. “Why  _ can’t _ I go with this outfit? Doesn’t it show a unique charm? I want him to remember me!”

Yohan’s almost twitching in irritation at the words.”A neon hoodie? Yeah you’ll be remembered, but for your shit styling.” His hands are quick to push Hangyul into the fitting room once again, in hopes of seeing if a basic outfit is the best way to go.

As Hangyul changes, Yohan does a quick search of Woodz, finding out that he’s extremely fashionable, editorial shots and streetwear always and effortlessly flawless. Even if he disapproves with Hangyul’s obsession with the singer, he refuses to let his best friend clown himself in front of his idol. 

“How’s this?” Eyes look up in approval as Yohan takes a thorough look at Hangyul’s outfit, certainly pleased with what he sees.

It’s a shame really, that Hangul, somebody so good looking, was cursed with a shit sense of fashion. Before meeting Yohan, Hangyul was always known on campus for having horrible taste in clothing, often mixing pieces that  _ never _ went well together, and wearing neons with no ounce of shame. 

Now, Hangyul’s sense of fashion is still bad, but at least he has Yohan to set his ass straight, often being the voice of reason that keeps Hangyul from destroying his reputation on campus as the school heartthrob.

He sends a thumbs up as Hangyul turns and poses, “You look  _ fine as hell _ ,” he compliments. The outfit is simple enough, just tight black pants and a white shirt, but it does wonders to emphasize all of Hangyul’s charming points, 

The pants are tight enough at the thighs to show off his strong legs, rips very well places along the tops of thighs and knees. The white shirt is luxury, and looks absolutely gorgeous on Hangyul, short sleeves putting all attention on Hangyul’s toned arms, while looking effortlessly fashionable at the same time. Paired with a few accessories, Yohan thinks this outfit is a winner.

“Seems kind of plain if you ask me,” Hangyul notes, but doesn’t hate on the outfit Yohan gives him. He knows from experience that Yohan is the one with the fashion sense, not him.

“Woodz is all about that simplistic and effortless fashion, isn’t he? I think if you also dress that way, he’ll definitely remember you, but as the hottie that came to his concert.”

Those words are enough to quell any fears that Hangyul has, bringing Yohan in for an over enthusiastic bro-hug to show his undying appreciation.

.

.

.

Okay, maybe Hangyul’s a little embarrassed, internally blanching at the massive line of girls that crowd the venue, all holding their slogans, eagerly awaiting being able to enter the building. It’s his first concert experience, not being able to have the chance to ever get tickets until now, and he’s a little intimidated at the sheer amount of fangirls that have shown up.

He really thinks that he sticks out like a sore thumb, dressed in his Yohan curated outfit along with a pair of sunglasses that hang from the neck of his shirt, pulling it down until it looks like a v-neck. A chain necklace with a little tiger charm on it hangs loosely from his neck, and he has his slogan carelessly thrown over his shoulder like a little towel.

As he walks up to the door to get into the early access for VIP ticket holders, he feels the burning gaze of the rest of the girls that drill into the back of his head, and maybe he blushes just a little bit as he shows the security guard his wrist that has his orange VIP wristband proudly wrapped around it. 

He’s absolutely lucky that he decided to go with the “woke up like this” vibe for his hair, having absolutely no qualms with running his hands through soft locks repeatedly in his nervousness as he walks up to the staff that will give him his number for the pre- concert Hi touch event and to his seat.

The number 7 lay in his hands, and he feels like he’s struck absolute gold. Essentially front row seats for the entirety of the concert? Seventh to meet his idol? Yeah, he thinks he may die from the pure bliss invading his veins, but takes the time to collect himself as he excited sits in his seat, looking up at the stage as he imagines just how amazing the concert is going to be.

It doesn’t matter that he’s basically the only guy at the venue, surrounded by only fangirls, but he’s proud of being a Woodz fan, proud of how the artist has changed his life for the better.

He recalls long nights in the dance studio as a high school student who had just found Woodz on soundcloud, spending nights upon nights trying to look for a piece to perform for his upcoming competition. 

The one song he found sparked a light in him, moves flowing like water, creating a beautiful piece to go along with beautiful and haunting vocals that filled the practice room. By morning, he had an absolutely wonderful song that wins him a national title in dance.

Three years later, Hangyul dances to that exact same song as he auditions for the dance program at his dream university, and he gets in.

.

.

.

The approach to get onstage is absolutely  _ unreal _ . Hangyul’s heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest, onset by the image of the flawless Woodz walking out on stage to greet the VIP fans, signalling the start of the meet and greet event.

He thinks he isn’t ready, hands almost shaking as he watches the types of interactions in store. The official event said they were only getting a handshake and a picture, but Woodz takes it to another level, hugging the first girl in a tight embrace before he spins her around like a ballerina to pose for their picture. They exchange niceties and an autograph on her shirt, and then he’s onto the next fan.

Perhaps he’s having a  _ moment _ , because he’s only prepared his soul for a handshake, maybe even a quick bro-hug at best, but it seems like Woodz is going all out with the fanservice today. It’s so surreal for Hangyul that he can barely get himself together before it's his turn, and the staff happily usher him on stage, like throwing the prey to a cage of lions. 

One smile is all it takes for Hangyul,  _ and Seungyoun _ , to malfunction. 

“Hi! Thank you so much for-” Seungyoun, who was turned around, says his default greeting (Hangyul assumes) as he whips around to face Hangyul, pausing as he’s greeted with the sight of not a fangirl but a really,  _ really _ handsome guy, who looks like he’s stepped straight out of an editorial.

This guy is  _ cute  _ cute, he muses, as his eyes slowly run up and down Hangyul’s figure, drinking in the sight of his killer body line. Seungyoun can’t help but let his eyes slow down at the sight of strong thighs peeking from the confines of ripped jeans, and ruggedly handsome features on the fan’s chiseled face.

“O-oh,” the artist collects himself, “thanks for coming to my concert,” he says, trying to sound laid back and cool, putting not his usual default smile on his face, but a more teasing, charming smile as he runs a hand through his hair (for peak levels of seduction of course) before putting a hand out for Hangyul to shake. 

Their hands touch, and Hangyul thinks he might self combust at how tiny and small Seungyoun’s hands feel in his, while Seungyoun has a silent crisis as Hangyul’s strong grip makes his heart beat like a lovestruck idiot. 

“I’m such a big fan of yours,” Hangyul says, low voice coming out a little over enthusiastic as he belatedly returns Seungyoun’s handshake. “This is like a dream come true, not gonna lie,” he chuckles, trying to hide his nervousness because he’s right in front of Woodz, his idol, and he would really like to look cool and not like the clown he usually is.

“Well I’m glad to know that even I have fans like you.”

_ Like you?  _

Hangyul doesn’t know how to process those words, head now spinning with the possibility and love struck high, that the rest of the meet and greet portion flies by with the flash of a camera. 

Suddenly, he’s back in his seat, signed polaroid and signed slogan in hand as he continues to watch the rest of the meet and greet go on, realizing just how close his seat is to the stage. The little picture in his hand has the two of them posed against each other, Seungyoun’s arm thrown around his shoulder as they both lean in and pose for the picture.

He can’t deny that they look so good together, and he instantly puts the polaroid in his phone case for safe keeping, trying not to be too conspicuous about it to save him from the embarrassment of acting like a fangirl.

For a moment, he feels like he’s getting stared down, but when he looks up, he has another mini-heart attack as Seungyoun’s gaze is right on him. Like the absolute bad thinker that he is, Hangyul panics, and decides to hold Seungyoun’s gaze and wink, which apparently is enough to get Seungyoun to panic and look away.

Yeah, this doesn’t feel real at all. Might as well put Hangyul in one of those dumb fanfics with an idol, because there’s  _ no way _ that he’s having some weird flirting / ust / connection with Cho Seungyoun himself. 

By the time the last person leaves the stage, the security allow the rest of the people with general tickets to file in and take their seats so that the concert can begin.

Seungyoun disappears for a few minutes, and when the lights dim down and music begins to boom from the speakers, Hangyul can’t help but fall in love with the absolutely stunning man that graces the stage. 

He grabs his slogan, raising it high in the air as Seungyoun walks up to the mic and smiles at him(?) or perhaps just the fans in general, because that’s more reasonable.

Hangyul thinks it’s delusional to think that Seungyoun’s looking at  _ him _ out of all the people, and decides to pretend as if he isn’t having some off fantasy playing in his head, choosing to just enjoy the show because he’s here for a good night.

.

.

.

It’s only when Hangyul gets home that he realizes that there really  _ was _ something going on between them, gut filled with a mix of fear, shock, and embarrassment when he takes out the polaroid from his phone case, to find Seungyoun’s number quickly written on the back of it.

_ hmu?  _

_ XXX-XXX-XXXX _

_ with love, C$Y _


	2. Kiss Me Through the Phone

Seungyoun won’t admit that at the fine age of twenty three, he’s acting like a teen in love waiting for his crush to test back. 

It’s hours after his concert, and he’s pretty sure that by now, Hangyul would have seen his message that he wrote on the back of their polaroid, except his phone is going crazy with notifications, and none of them are from the one person he wants, none of them are _Hangyul._

Call him whipped, an idiot, and he’ll own up to it, because Hangyul’s the reason why he’s lying in bed at two AM, waiting for a call or text from him.

He’s used to just meeting little feral fangirls that want to marry him, and seeing Hangyul at his meet and greet gives him just a tad more confidence in his own music, because the man _did_ mention loving his music, unlike the girls that he knows are sometimes just in it for his looks (although he hopes a little on the inside that Hangyul finds him attractive).

Scratch that, making eye contact with Hangyul gave him one of those k-drama, fall in love kind of moments where people’s eyes meet, and suddenly its all hearts, rainbows, and unicorns, and even as he lies in bed, hours later, Seungyoun’s able to relive the exact moment that had onstage.

He remembers the way Hangyul smiles at him, looking like a whole model (though he’s a little on the short side, but Seungyoun thinks its cute), before they shake hands, and Seungyoun _swears_ that he can see the way Hangyul’s muscles flex as their hands are connected.

Yeah, Hangyul’s drop dead gorgeous, and it’s an absolute ego boost for Seungyoun that a fine man, with absolutely stunning fashion sense like Hangyul, would buy the highest tier tickets for him.

Seungyoun can already hear the disapproving sound of Seungwoo, his manager’s voice tomorrow when he sees him with red eyes and barely any energy from staying up and waiting for a text to miraculously come from Hangyul. 

On any other day, he’d probably be in the studio right now, making songs for his next album that’s supposed to drop in a few months, but he already knows with something exciting as a boy on his mind, there’s no way in hell that he’s going to be able to concentrate enough to make coherent music.

What else is he to do to keep himself from crying out in frustration over a cute boy?

His answer is to do some… _research_ on the said cute boy, because he’s a genius like that, although Seungwoo’s answer of a _“hopeless idiot”_ might be more appropriate. 

He only has a first name, and the searches come up quite empty, leaving him squinting at instagram profiles that do not belong to the apple of his eye, but Seungyoun’s no quitter. Determination is one of his strongest characteristics and he’s going to stop at nothing to find this elusive Hangyul. 

Instead, he goes through images tagged at his concert venue from that night, praying to god that if Hangyul’s such a big fan of him, he would have posted a picture or something. It’s honestly like a sick run of his fan meeting, scrolling through pictures of countless teen girls, and he swears he’s almost swiping at light speed, until a flash of ash blonde hair and the luxury white t shirt comes flies across his screen, and he scrolls back in a panic, trying to locate Hangyul.

The username to his crush is Lee_gyul_gyul. Something about the name just makes Seungyoun want to kiss the adorable but utterly handsome man on the screen through the phone.

On the screen is the photo of Hangyul and Seungyoun’s polaroid and Seungyoun shamelessly screenshots and saves the photo (that’s not creepy, right?) before he admires just how good of a pair they look. 

Hangyul’s got that effortlessly handsome type of vibe that Seungyoun is admittedly a sucker for. 

What can he say? 

Seungyoun’s a man of fashion and he can tell through Hangyul’s carelessly chic style that he’s boyfriend material, not that people _should_ be basing their dating standards on looks alone, just that Seungyoun just _knows_ that Hangyul is special. 

His heart almost bursts from his chest when he stops ogling Hangyul to finally look at the caption:

_“Met the man of my dreams tonight #woodz”_

Okay, that’s it. Seungyoun’s in love.

He clicks on Hangyul’s account, certainly pleased at the way Hangyul has around thirty images on his account, all stunning images of the man. 

Seungyoun’s not ashamed that he clicks on the shirtless photo first, zooming in on Hangyul’s chiseled abs and toned arms, thinking of some unspeakable things that they could be getting up to if Hangyul could just text him. 

As if the husky voice, flawless body, and amazing fashion sense aren’t enough, a quick look through Hangyul’s photos tell a story of an absolute _angel_. 

From what he can see, Hangyul’s a man of many talents; a modern day renaissance man. He can play piano, does basketball and taekwondo, skilled at cooking and volunteers at a local orphanage on the weekends. 

Is it really possible for someone to be this handsome and this gifted? All the little images and videos has Seungyoun swooning over the university student even more, until he scrolls all the way down to Hangyul’s first post, which is a video shot in a dimly lit dance studio, captioned:

_“Throwback to this piece that got me into SNU #woodz #different”_

It’s Different, arguably one of his favorite songs, and as the video begins to play, Seungyoun finds himself utterly entranced by Hangyul’s fluid moves and choreography.

Seungyoun wrote the song with feelings of longing, melancholy, loss and resignation, and Hangyul’s interpretation of the song indeed expresses longing, but his smooth body rolls convey a more sexual vibe to the piece, something that locks Seungyoun’s eyes to the screen, unable to look away.

The dancer is in sweatpants and a hoodie, but even without a flashy outfit he’s able to command Seungyoun’s attention, and Seungyoun can see that he has that standout quality and star factor that all performers need. 

Hangyul dances like no one’s watching, eyes closed, fully immersed in the choreography. The younger moves with perfect balance of accuracy and sensuality, dancing in time with the dark beat of the pulsing music that seemingly resounds in the studio. 

He hits each and every move like it’s clockwork, but flows between moves with a fluidity that has Seungyoun’s mind reeling with each and every hip thrust and body roll. 

Hangyul takes confident strides forwards, pausing right in front of the camera, before the video’s over.

He needs to take a few deep breaths after the video, being sure to calm his mind and rid it of whatever _thoughts_ he happened to think up while watching Hangyul pour out his soul while dancing to one of Seungyoun’s own songs.

Seungyoun gets it: that Hangyul’s the most flawless human being to grace the earth, and that he’s going crazy because it seems like the dancer just won’t text him back.

He’s everything that Seungyoun wants, and even more. 

So why can’t Hangyul text him back? From everything that he’s seen, it’s clear that the younger is most definitely a fan, and by posting their polaroid picture, it would most definitely mean that Hangyul’s seen his number written on the back.

Maybe Hangyul’s just shy, he muses, before throwing the thought right out of his mind. There’s no chance that Hangyul’s shy and panicked like Seungyoun is.

Seungyoun remembers the way that Hangyul caught his gaze during the meet and greet, winking back at him with an unexpected and unbridled charm that sends Seungyoun in a panic because Hangyul’s just _that_ handsome.

If Hangyul winked at him, wouldn’t that mean he’s interested? Or is it just that Hangyul’s a naturally charming and flirtatious guy that can wink at their celebrity without a second thought?

He’s so damn frustrated that he’s almost about to launch his phone across the room, because _why can’t the one cute boy he likes text him back?_

And it’s at this moment that Seungyoun realizes, that it’s almost three AM. He feels like an absolute clown. Hangyul’s probably asleep, too tired standing up and cheering from the concert earlier that evening to stay up like the usual irresponsible college student.

Everything is fine. 

He takes a big breath in relief, hugging his phone to his chest, almost dying at imagining how Hangyul would send the first text.

Then he’s back at swooning over Hangyul’s instagram photos, like the absolute lovesick fool that he is. One particularly standout image is a selfie of Hangyul with black hair and a completely black outfit, pouting at the camera while looking absolutely, drop dead gorgeous. 

“Goodnight, Hangyullie and I hope you’re sleeping well.”

As always Seungyoun’s a shameless human being, so he brings the phone up to his face so that he can kiss Hangyul’s pouting lips goodnight, soft lips as nose colliding with the screen as he does so.

He’s absolutely giddy, fantasizing about just how nice it would be to actually kiss Hangyul, as in have a full on make out session with the charming dancer, until he inspects the photo once more (for research purposes, of course), only to see that he’s accidentally liked the photo because of his damned _nose._

So maybe he freaks out, quickly unliking the photo so that he can collect his thoughts and fucking _think_. 

On one hand, he thinks he’s perfectly fine, because it’s three AM, and Hangyul’s most likely asleep, right?

Then again, who’s to say he won’t wake up with a notification that Seungyoun’s official instagram account liked his six month old selfie.

But life seems to just hate Seungyoun, because he gets a text from an unknown number and he just _knows_ that it’s Hangyul.

  
  


_Unknown Number_

_you like my pictures?_

  
  


Okay, he’s in danger, because it only takes Hangyul four words to send Seungyoun in a love induced panic. How can someone be so damn cool with just one text? And also what the hell is Hangyul doing up at this hour?

If only he knew that Hangyul is also in bed, unable to sleep because he was attempting to come up with a good message to send to Seungyoun. 

First of all, Seungyoun needs to get himself together and come up with a good text. He doesn’t want to sound too eager and give away that he’s a panicking mess, because Woodz is a cool, charming, and suave artist. 

He needs to get rid of his panicking Seungyoun mind, because he knows if he messes the coming messages up, he can kiss all his dreams of securing a boyfriend goodbye. 

  
  


_Cho Woodz_

_thought i had to let you know that i was interested because someone didn’t text me_

_Unknown Number_

_glad to know that you’re thinking of me tonight_

_Cho Woodz_

_are you thinking of me too?_

  
  


Things seem like their going well, Seungyoun can’t really tell what kind of tension they’re having through their texts, confused if they’re flirting with a little bit of what Seungyoun hopes to be possible sexual tension (because it’s always good to know that he’s attractive that way, of course).

He feels confident, well, as confident as he can be as he’s wrapped up in his blankets staring at his phone with absolute attention, as if all the problems of the universe lay on the screen in front of him. 

And then things go to all hell when hisc screen lights up, and he's actually going to scream, because Hangyul is calling him. 

  
  


_Incoming call from Unknown Number_

  
  


He’s not ready for some actual interaction, texts already sending him into an absolute panic. It’s easy to hide behind a phone, to pretend to be confident and not like the nervous wreck he really is, and the call is instantly going to break the illusion and make Hangyul think he’s some loser.

Seungyoun’s freaking out, fingers fumbling over the screen because he _needs_ to text Seungwoo for some help with his situation, because over the past years of knowing each other, Seungwoo _always_ knows what do in life or death situations like these. 

But Seungyoun’s a clown, and for the millionth time in his life he curses the world for giving him tiny hands and short fingers, because as he tries to switch his screen to scream at Seungwoo to save his ass, he accidentally fucking _answers_ the call.

And maybe he screams when he realizes what he’s done, before screaming again because he realizes that Hangyul definitely heard his first scream. Yes, Cho Seungyoun is a mess, and yes, he knows he’s absolutely fucked. 

“Uh are you okay?”

_Shit,_ Hangyul’s low voice sounds far too good over the phone, a rich and warm tone that absolutely soothes the pain of Seungyoun’s previous mistakes, before he realises that he actually has to converse with Hangyul now. 

“I-I’m great, hahah!” 

No amount of fake laughter is going to be enough to erase the way Seungyoun’s cheeks are on fire, red with the embarrassment of making a fool of himself to Hangyul like this.

“Just making sure,” Hangyul chuckles, “You sounded like you were having a _moment_ there.”

_Dear god Hangyul’s onto him,_ Seungyoun thinks, and once again his heart is beating a mile a minute. Seungyoun wants to curl up in his bed and disappear into nothingness, because it’s clear that Hangyul probably thinks he has zero brain cells.

“Seungyoun?”

Right, he still has to talk to Hangyul and pray to god that he doesn’t fuck the conersation up more than he has to.

“I’m still here, don’t worry,” he reassures Hangyul, taking soft breaths as a way to calm his racing heart and his overthinking mind. “So what are _you_ doing up so late, hm?”

He can tell that Hangyul’s also in bed as well, from the way he can hear the sheets rustle as Hangyul presumably gets comfortable.

“You know how it is,” Hangyul casually comments, “Just thinking about things and staying up for the heck of it.” 

Seungyoun wonders what Hanygyul stays up to think about, if he ever lets his mind wander about Seungyoun or not, if he thinks about thinks like playing with puppies or what he’s going to eat the next day.

He sure hopes that Hangyul’s been thinking of him as of late, and especially after the concert.

“Thinking of me?”

Over the phone, he hears a loud thud, and it seems like Hangyul’s abruptly and accidentally hit something.

Seungyoun tentatively prods once again, “Gyul?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Hangyul says, “I’m just…” He trails off, and Seungyoun thinks that somehow, he’s fucked it all up.

“I’m just really nervous right now,” Hangyul admits, sounding sheepish as he can over the phone, “because this literally feels like a dream. Talking to my idol is kind of intimidating, you know. I’m trying to sound really cool because I can’t believe someone like _you_ would be interested in _me._ ”

And it feels like there’s a burden coming off Seungyoun’s shoulders, comforted by the fact that he’s not the only one nervous right now. He smiles, curling up into his fleece blanket even more, now at ease with the situation and feeling a tad bit more confident.

“I’m nervous too, Hangyul, for the exact same reason.” Seungyoun laughs, thinking about just how absurd he’s been all day long ever since giving Hangyul his number. “I’m really attracted to you, and I’m scared of messing it up because I guess I do have a reputation as an artist. I just don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Then we’re both nervous for nothing I guess,” Hangyul says, laughing at the way they both are in the same predicament, trying to impress each other. “How about we start over then?”

“Sounds good.” Seungyoun’s determined to make things right this time, “I’m Seungyoun, and I gave you my number because I think you’re really cute. I like making music and I love traveling.”

“I’m Hangyul and I also think you’re really cute,” Seungyoun’s blushing where he lay, feeling like he’s on cloud nine. “I really like dancing and just helping out others whenever I can.”

“I saw your dancing,” Seungyoun replies, “And I think you’re absolutely _amazing_ at it.”

He thinks of Hangyul dancing to one of Seungyoun’s oldest songs from the video earlier, and hopes that maybe, just maybe Hangyul will keep on dancing to his music.

“Maybe one day you’ll let me teach you?”

“I might disappoint you.” 

Hangyul scoffs, “Everyone can dance, you know. It just takes time, practice, and a good teacher like me.” 

“Take me on a real date first,” Seungyoun jokes, “and then we’ll see if I’ll let you teach me how to dance.” 

Now that they’ve gotten the initial nervousness out of the way, conversation seems to flow so naturally between them. Seungyoun loves the way that Hangyul’s so humorous as it matches up so well with his own easy going and talkative nature. 

They segue from playfully hinting at dates, to talking more about their friends and family, to talking about their favorite foods, in which Seungyoun discovers that Hangyul apparently can’t eat anything spicy, which he thinks is just absolutely adorable.

“So you really can’t eat spicy food at all? Like not even the spicy ramen?”

Hangyul audibly cringes over the phone, “Fire noodles are absolutely disgusting. I remember one time Yohan made me eat them and I swear I thought I was going to throw up!”

He loves how endlessly passionate Hangyul is about the people in his life, loves the way the younger is able to talk so freely and excitedly about little anecdotes here and there. 

It makes them talk for what seems like hours. In the dead of the night, Seungyoun finds his eyes slipping close, because he _really_ should get rest after concerts, and he's already been awake for more than twenty four hours at this point.

And yet he tries to hang onto the conversation, which has now shifted to what Hangyul did over the weekend, and Seungyoun’s enthusiastic responses have turned into little hums of affirmation every once in a while.

It doesn’t take a genius to tell that Seungyoun’s spent, and somewhere along the lines, he only offers cute little soft breaths, and it makes Hangyul smile, even though he’s talking to nobody at this point. 

Seungyoun is nothing he’d imagined, and yet is even more than he ever wants. The illustrious Woodz turns into the real, down to earth Seungyoun who Hangyul wants to know more about. 

It only takes one phone call to absolutely shatter everything that Hangyul knows about Seungyoun, to make him more human and more attainable in Hangyul’s eyes.

Because the Woodz that he’s looked up to all this time is the same man on the other side of the call who’s seconds away from snoring up a storm. So he throws the blanket over his head, and decides that they both need a good night's sleep though it’s already edging at five thirty AM.

“Goodnight Seungyoun,” he whispers, “and sweet dreams.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aye,,, anyone down for an actual chapter where these fools go on a real date??/ Ah AH AH A


	3. First Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a note!! there is a continuation of this fic on my twt @rynsngyl !! it's a twt au!

Hangyul can’t tell if it's proper date etiquette to invite your boyfriend (are they even boyfriends?) over to your place for the first date; seems a  _ little _ too fast for his tastes, but Seungyoun did mention that he can’t be seen in public in fear of rabid fangirls and the prying eyes of the media, which Hangyul figures  _ does _ make sense.

It’s going to be the first time that he and Seungyoun are going to meet face to face, other than from the concert, so he wants to make their first date down right  _ amazing _ . 

First and foremost, he needs to cook dinner. He’s always had a knack for cooking, especially because his younger brother’s always been a hungry child, forcing Hangyul to be in the kitchen making actual food because he  _ refused _ to let Dohyon eat processed snacks all day long. 

But the real challenge is figuring out what to make for Seungyoun.

Would he like something western? Perhaps pasta, steak and potatoes, or even burgers? Or would he like something more close to home, a simple but traditional korean dinner for two?

  
  


_ Hangyullie _

_ what kind of food do you want? _

_ Cho Woodz _

_ lol idk _

_ Hangyullie _

_ I hate you stop being indecisive : (( _

_ Cho Woodz _

_ surprise me, gyul _

_ ill be there in an hour _

_ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) _

  
  


So Seungyoun’s no help at all.  _ Great. _

Walking into the kitchen, he realizes that there’s barely any food in the fridge or the cabinets, and he needs to think fast if he wants to be able to have a meal ready to blow Seungyoun’s mind.

Rummaging around the kitchen, he’s able to find some choice items: various packages of instant noodles, some green onions, a random slab of pork belly, one last clove or garlic, kimchi, and around five containers of meal prepped kimchi fried rice that he made two days ago.

He can make something decent with that,  _ right _ ? 

So maybe he’s over estimated himself, because suddenly, cooking doesn’t seem as easy as it was before. He doesn’t know why he’s struggling to come up with something decent, hands moving quickly, chopping vegetables without a second thought.

He’s about to have his first date, with Cho Seungyoun of all people. He needs to get his shit together. 

It seems to be a miracle that he’s able to fish out a couple of his best plates and bowls (a gift from his mother) from within the depths of the cabinet. He plates a good amount of kimchi fried rice on the little dining table that he has, hoping that adding the melted cheese later will make it seem more gourmet than some haphazardly made dish he put together with leftovers a few days ago. 

The kimchi becomes one of the side dishes, joining a few other little dishes of pickled radish, potato salad, and japchae. It’s a good distribution of color that’s peppered across the table, something he read in an article about how bringing a diverse amount of color to the dinner table makes people more likely to have good feelings and a better impression.

The real problem is that he needs to cook up the slices of pork belly, waiting for the pan to get dangerously hot before he slaps the meat down. He made a quick garlic rub for the meat, and the pieces have been marinating for a good half hour or so. 

There’s nothing better than when he starts laying the meat on the pan, hearing the satisfying hiss of the meat sizzling from the heat. 

It’s when he’s just started the ramen that there’s an over enthusiastic knock on his door, to which he gives his noodles a quick little mix before he’s rushing out to greet his guest, attempting to not trip over his multitude of shoes that cover his doorway.

When he finally is able to open the door, he’s faced with a fashionable figure, all in black along with a hoodie, a hat, and face mask. It’s one hundred percent Seungyoun. Hangyul’s so taken with looking up and down Seungyoun’s outfit that he doesn’t notice that the rapper is is frozen, eyes glued to his outfit.

“Hyung,” Hangyul says, startling the other. “Come in! I’ve just finished dinner.”

  
  


Seungyoun steps into the little apartment, but he’s still staring at Hangyul, eyes transfixed on the younger, for whatever reason.

“Are you okay?” Hangyul asks, before he takes a glance at himself. He’s in his regular clothes, just a pair of basketball shorts and a hoodie, so he can’t really think of anything wrong, unless he’s dressed  _ too _ casual for a first date. 

The older shakes his head, as if snapping out of a trance, yet Hangyul can see how the man’s eyes always end up back on his clothes, even as he guides him to the dining table, that’s laid out with a feast.

“Hyung.” Hangyul says, “Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry if I made the wrong dishes, but you said that anything was okay.”

Seungyoun diverts his eyes to the table, face gaining a soft, strawberry red flush that dances on the tops of his cheeks. “It’s not that,” he weakly says, twiddling his thumbs.”

“Then what is it?”

“You’re neon,” Seungyoun points out, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I thought you had amazing fashion sense but you look like a highlighter.”

Okay,  _ now _ Hangyul’s hurt. Yohan calling him a bad dresser is fine, because it’s Yohan. But hearing the words from Seungyoun? That kind of hurts, and he slowly shuffles to his room because he’s embarrassed of his inability to dress nicely.

There’s a little twinge in his heart as he thinks of something better to wear. Maybe just a pair of sweats and a random white t-shirt? Yohan says white t-shirts look amazing on him. Maybe‒

“Hangyul, wait!” A hand wraps around his wrist. It’s Seungyoun, who pulls him back to the dining table, gesturing for him to sit. “I’m sorry if I sounded mean and really stuck up just then,” he admits, “I just wasn’t expecting you to be in full neon.”

“I happen to love neons,” Hangyul pouts, still seemingly hurt by Seungyoun’s blunt words. “I’ll be honest, I don’t know how to dress, my friend acts as my personal stylist. And if bad fashion is a deal breaker for the oh so great Woodz, then I humbly invite you to un-boyfriend me.”

It’s obvious that he’s just joking, and yet Seungyoun sends an actual pout back, hands quickly reaching over the table to grasp Hangyul’s hands. “Baby, nooo!” He whines, trying to get Hangyul’s attention. “I love it! I won’t un-boyfriend you even if you wear neons!”

“You know un-boyfriend isn’t a real word right?” Hangyul jokes, trying to get Seungyoun to stop worrying. “Also  _ baby?” _ He asks, referencing how Seungyoun easily let the pet name slip out.

Seungyoun’s nose scrunches adorably when he realizes just what he’s said. 

“I mean we’re boyfriends, you’re younger than me,  _ and _ you pout. Therefore, you’re not just baby, but  _ my _ baby,” he declares, one hand squishing Hangyul’s cheek in order to supplement his reasoning. 

“Even if I can’t dress well?” Hangyul goads, looking expectantly at the older man.

“ _ Especially _ if you can’t dress well,” Seungyoun laughs, winking as he taps Hangyul’s nose with the tip of his finger. Hangyul thinks his laughter sounds bright, like windchimes on the perfect day.

“I’ll be your stylist,” he proclaims, “Fuck, I’ll even be your sugar daddy and get you all the luxury clothing you deserve, but I think it’s a crime for you to be dressing badly when you look so handsome.”

“The real question is how much you’re willing to spend on little old me,” he bashfully says, pretending to be embarrassed. “Hopefully it’s a lot of money.”

Seungyoun almost hurls the spoon at him from across the table. “I’m not rich! I just have a lot of clothing of mine that you could borrow! I’d honestly love seeing you in my clothes,” he adds on.

For a moment, his mind wanders off to a less than appropriate topic, thinking of Hangyul in his hoodies, or dressed up like a handsome model, and he’s almost salivating at the thought of strong arms, sharp features, and a killer smile. 

Hangyul smiles, though he knows Seungyoun’s just served him a little insult between his compliment sandwich, “Think less about the outfit and more about the meal in front of you.” He placed a large amount of rice on Seungyoun’s plate. “At the very least, I hope my cooking can make up for the outfit.”

“Now shut up and eat,” Hangyul says, grabbing the pot of ramen and bringing it to the table. 

And as pleasant that dinner is, Seungyoun finds that he can’t focus, because Hangyul is right in front of him, real, in the flesh instead of through a screen like when they videocall.

The student is devastatingly handsome, even if the neon hoodie kind of makes his eyes hurt a little bit, but that’s okay, because all of his focus is on Hangyul’s face anyways. 

“The food’s really good,” Seungyoun compliments as he grabs another piece of pork belly from the plate. “Any other talents to add to your long list of skills? I’m a little jealous that you’re so good at so many things,” he pouts, though Hangyul finds it amazingly endearing.

“You’re amazingly talented too though,” he rebuts, recalling all the little facts that he’s picked up as both Seungyoun’s fan and now, his boyfriend. “You can speak like 4 languages, you can produce music, sing, and even rap!” 

Hangyul quickly adds on, "And you're also famous so you kind of have that going on for yourself."

"Stop it! You don't have to say it like that," Seungyoun complains, though he eats up the compliment and lets Hangyul's words stroke his ego just a  _ tiny _ bit. "And I don't want you to just think I'm some superficial celebrity," he looks into Hangyul's eyes, sincere, "I want you to think of me as  _ Seungyoun _ , your boyfriend."

Once dinner is finished, the two of them are faced with the elephant in the room. Without the excuse of food in front of them to distract them and calm their nerves from the fact that they’re no longer split up by their lives and they’re finally face to face. 

It begins with an awkward affair in the kitchen, Hangyul quickly putting the plates into the sink and submerging them in soapy water for him to finish cleaning later. Problem is, Seungyoun isn’t about to let his boyfriend do all the work and just let him awkwardly stand in the kitchen, waiting for Hangyul to finish.

So he does what he thinks is best, to stand right next to Hangyul at the sink and attempt to pry the plates from his boyfriend’s hands. Hangyul’s clearly caught off guard, eyes widening in horror as he sees Seungyoun already snatching a plate from his grasp before he scrubs the plate and rinses it.

“Seungyoun what the  _ hell _ are you doing,” Hangyul hisses, because he’s not about to let his guest do  _ any _ chores during the time he spends at his place. “Sit down,” he all but orders, grabbing the plate from Seungyoun’s hands, voice sickeningly sweet. “You’re my guest, so just wait a few minutes and I’ll be right with you.”

“What kind of a customer service voice is that?” Seungyoun flinches, though he’s quick to grab another item to wash from Hangyul’s side of the sink. “And you can’t stop me, I’m a gentleman and I don’t let my boyfriend do all the work,” he huffs, raising his chin high and proud as he continues to rinse and dry the dishes without a care. 

It escalates when they’re down to the last plate, and their eyes lock and suddenly they’re in an action film, facing off as if the last plate determines the winner of a prize even larger than life. In the blink of an eye, Seungyoun’s left hand darts out for the plate, and when Hangyul evades the strike, he forgets that Seungyoun has another arm, and the older easily wrestles the dish, triumphant as Hangyul is left with cold and soapy hands. 

He’s the loser to their valiant battle to do the dishes, left to wash his hands and patiently wait for Seungyoun on his couch, no matter how cheated he feels by his boyfriend. 

This was  _ not _ at all the plan for the date. He’s supposed to make dinner, do everything so that Seungyoun can just rest himself and just enjoy what Hangyul has in store. Maybe it’s a little cliche, but Hangyul’s planned to have them Netflix and chill ‒ _ appropriately, of course _ ‒ after they build a little pillow fort around the couch.

He’s bitter as hell, because leave it to the oh so perfect Cho Seungyoun to out-boyfriend him like this and steal his gentlemanly thunder.

“I can’t believe this,” he says out loud, loud enough where he knows Seungyoun, who’s just finished in the kitchen, can still hear him. “You come into  _ my _ home and decide to ruin all my plans.”

“And what was the plan?” Seungyoun asks, an eyebrow poised high in question, teasing even as Hangyul sits on the couch, not facing him with his hands crossed as he acts like he’s angry. 

Hangyul doesn’t respond, instead putting the hood to his hoodie over his head for dramatic effect, just to make sure Seungyoun  _ knows _ he’s upset. Seungyoun really can’t ignore the idea that swims in his mind. Hangyul looks like a fluffy neon ball, like the kind kids would kick around in the park, and it’s taking every piece of his will to not start laughing at the thought.

It's only when he sees Hangyul squeeze harder into a ball, seemingly trying to signal for Seungyoun to do something, that he approaches his boyfriend, a wide smile on his face. He tries to get Hangyul to face him, though no matter how hard he tries, the younger just scrunches up his nose and turns his face the other way.

“Baby,” Seungyoun says as he puts his hands on Hangyul’s shoulders and has to physically turn the dancer to face him. His boyfriend looks like a little puppy in neon, eyebrows and nose adorably scrunched, his eyes are downcast but practically  _ sparkling _ , and his cheeks are a little puffed out.

It’s like his breath gets caught in his throat, a strangled, odd sound that really shouldn’t come from a human somehow makes it out of him, and Hangyul recoils in shock at the horrifying sound. He quickly collects himself though, even though he’s a little embarrassed that he’s made some inhuman screech so he can continue his efforts at appeasing Hangyul.

“Can you tell me what your plans were, then?” The request is soft, Seungyoun’s eyes looking into Hangyul’s and it feels like his heart is about to burst when the younger man  _ pouts _ .

“No.” He turns away again, “I’m angry, so I’m not going to tell you until I feel better.”

Seungyoun reaches out again, trying to get Hangyul to look his way once again. “And how do I make you feel better?”

The younger whips around, almost catching the singer off guard. He’s smirking, flicking his hood off and running his hand through his hair. It almost gives Seungyoun whiplash, the way Hangyul goes from the cutest boy on the face of the earth to terrifyingly attractive.

“I’ll feel better if you make out with me.”

Seungyoun narrows his eyes suspiciously at the sudden change in demeanor, though he plays along with it and lets a hand rest on Hangyul’s thigh before his other hand finds its way around Hangyul’s nape and pulls him close.

“And you’ll tell me the plan if I kiss you?”

There’s a palpable tension in the air, the two of them grinning, eyes on each other and in sync as their hands slowly inch upwards, and their faces slowly get closer, as if testing the waters. It’s when their noses are almost touching that Hangyul replies.

_ “Kiss me well enough and those plans might just change.” _

_. _

_. _

_. _

It turns out that Hangyul’s initial plans don’t change. They end up making out for a little while, but when their lips part and they’re both dazed with the fact that yes, they really  _ did _ kiss for the first time as a couple, they both get cold feet and abort mission. Any farther and it would tread into some  _ dangerous _ territory.

The night ends up getting spent as they rummage around Hangyul’s room and raid it for any blankets, pillows, or stuffed animals that they can find. Seungyoun gets to show off his artist’s mind, creating a pillow fort more complex and strangely beautiful than Hangyul could even imagine. 

There’s two rooms, ample space, great visibility to see the TV, and absolutely filled with blankets and pillows. Hangyul kind of thinks that his boyfriend is a genius, and it feels even better to be curled up with Seungyoun in their little home made of plush pillows as they binge watch a reality show that Seungyoun  _ swears _ is good.

The plot is interesting for a while, until the hours fly by and their eyelids droop, dialogue and jokes completely flying over their tired minds and content souls. 

It’s only a matter of hours, laying on the floor with a single blanket covering them with their backs leaned on the foot of the couch. Hands, fingers, and their legs are intertwined as Seungyoun barely notices Hangyul’s head gently resting on the side of his shoulder.

By the time they wake up in the morning light that streams through the window, they’ll both think that their first date is officially, a complete success. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MAN i was like ARE WE GOING TO WRITE SMUT?? for a hot second while i was writing this but I"VE HAD ENOUGH SIN!! and i wanted this to be wholesome lol
> 
> ANYWAYS please comment!!! let me know how it was!! 
> 
> You can find me on twt @hangyuwu and @rynsngyl !!


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